A CROWN OF THORNS AND DEFIANCE

Estella strolled through the palace halls with her head held high, hips swaying with deliberate defiance. She knew people were watching—hell, she wanted them to watch.

Let them see the marks Lucien left on her neck. Let them whisper about the wild girl who had the emperor wrapped around her little finger.

But beneath her cool exterior, her blood still burned.

The way he had taken her—rough and unyielding—left a lingering ache between her thighs, but she'd be damned if she let it slow her down. If Lucien thought he could fuck her into submission, he was about to be very disappointed.

"Careful, little rebel," she murmured to herself, mimicking his voice as she turned a corner. "I'll make you scream."

A wicked smirk curled her lips. Too late, Your Majesty.

"Talking to yourself already?"

Estella rolled her eyes before glancing over her shoulder. Cassius leaned lazily against a marble column, all sharp edges and silver-tongued charm. His dark hair fell messily across his brow, but nothing about his watchful gaze was careless.

"What do you want, General?" she asked, though her tone lacked its usual bite.

Cassius pushed off the wall, falling into step beside her. "What, no insults today?" he mused. "Lucien must've worked you harder than I thought."

Estella huffed a laugh. "Please. If that's your idea of 'hard,' I pity whoever shares your bed."

His laughter echoed through the corridor. "Sharp tongue, no patience, and you still look like you want to burn this whole place down," he observed. "No wonder he's obsessed."

Estella cast him a sidelong glance. "You're awfully interested in the emperor's bedroom. Jealous, Cassius?"

"Of him?" Cassius chuckled darkly, stepping closer until their shoulders brushed. "Not a chance. But I wouldn't mind watching him lose his mind over you."

Estella snorted. "He's already halfway there."

"Good." His voice dropped lower—softer. "I like a little chaos. And you, darling, are a walking disaster."

She would've laughed, but the sound of silk sweeping across the marble floor cut through their playful banter. The air shifted—turned colder.

Valeria.

The favorite concubine glided toward them, her black gown trailing behind her like shadowed poison. Her smile was pure venom, but her eyes—gods, her eyes burned with murder.

"My, my," Valeria drawled, her voice smooth as silk. "Out for a little stroll? Or did His Majesty finally tire of you?"

Estella smiled sweetly. "Aw, don't tell me you're still mad," she crooned. "I'd be bitter too if I spent years on my knees only for some 'common brat' to take your place."

Cassius let out a low whistle, clearly enjoying the tension.

Valeria's smile sharpened. "You're awfully bold for someone dangling on a thread," she purred. "Lucien gets bored easily, sweetheart. You're just the newest toy."

Estella stepped closer, her voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "Funny," she said, tilting her head. "I was just thinking how much you remind me of an antique—a pretty little relic no one actually wants anymore."

Valeria's mask cracked—just for a moment—but it was enough.

"You think you've won?" Valeria hissed, stepping into Estella's space. "You're nothing but a passing amusement. And when he's finished with you, there won't be a shred of you left."

Estella's smile turned cold. "Good luck waiting around for that day, sweetheart. I'd tell you to find a hobby, but I'm guessing backstabbing is the only thing you're good at."

Cassius bit back a laugh as Valeria's eyes burned with barely contained rage.

But before another word could be said, the air shifted again—heavier, darker.

Lucien.

He strode into the corridor like he owned the world—broad shoulders, cold silver eyes, and the kind of arrogance that made the walls themselves seem to bow.

His gaze swept over the three of them—but when his eyes locked onto Estella, something fierce burned behind them.

Valeria straightened immediately, her expression softening into something delicate and practiced. "Your Majesty," she purred. "I was just—"

"I didn't ask," Lucien said, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.

Valeria's mouth snapped shut, and Estella bit back a laugh.

Lucien's attention shifted back to her. "Walk with me."

It wasn't a request.

"Bossy," Estella muttered, but she fell into step beside him anyway, leaving Valeria fuming behind them.

Lucien's Chambers…

The door barely shut before Lucien spun her around, pinning her against the heavy wood. His mouth was on hers—hot and demanding—as if their little game in the corridor had only fueled the fire between them.

"You like pushing me," he murmured against her lips, his hand sliding beneath her robe to grip her bare waist. "But you forget—I push back."

Estella's breath hitched as his teeth scraped along her throat. "I thought you liked a challenge," she taunted.

"I do." His hand slipped lower, fingers dragging over her still-sensitive core. "And I always win."

A moan slipped from her lips before she could stop it, and Lucien's answering smile was pure wickedness.

"Still think you're in charge?" he whispered, sliding two fingers inside her with ruthless ease.

Estella gasped, her nails biting into his shoulders. "You're awfully cocky for a man who begged to fuck me against a wall."

His laughter was low and sinful. "And you let me," he murmured, curling his fingers in a way that made her thighs tremble. "Tell me, little rebel—did you enjoy being fucked like a whore?"

Estella's pride battled the pleasure surging through her veins. "I'm still waiting to be impressed."

Lucien growled softly, withdrawing his fingers only to lift her against the wall in one fluid motion. "Let me fix that."

His cock pressed against her entrance—thick and heavy—and without another word, he thrust into her, burying himself to the hilt.

"Fuck—" she gasped, her head falling back against the wood.

"That's it," he groaned, driving into her harder. "Take me, Estella. You belong to me."

Her body clenched around him, and she bit back a scream as the force of his thrusts sent pleasure crashing through her.

"Say it," he demanded, his mouth at her ear. "Say you're mine."

Estella laughed breathlessly, dragging her nails down his back. "Make me."

His rhythm turned brutal—deep, punishing strokes that left her trembling. "I will," he promised darkly. "And by the time I'm finished, you'll beg me to keep you."

And gods—part of her wanted to.

Meanwhile…

Valeria stood outside the door, her fists clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms.

She had underestimated Estella.

But that was a mistake she wouldn't make again.

If Estella wanted to play dirty—Valeria was about to drag her straight to hell.